When Purpose combed Scratch’s hair, Scratch always complained. She was afraid that Purpose would stop if she knew how much her daughter liked it.

Brackish, brackish, brackish, her mind sang like a taunt, are my lover’s tears for me.

“I’ve always had a difficult relationship with my parents,” Brella murmured.

Scratch froze halfway down the first braid. “You don’t have to tell me this. Just because you saw—”

“I want to. You didn’t choose to show me that, so I . . .” She breathed, her shoulders rising and falling. “Do you not want me to? I can stop.”

“No.” Scratch swallowed thickly. “It’s fine.”

“I’m the oldest girl of fourteen. They expected that I would do a lot of parenting for them. I’m not very good at that.”

“Did you ever talk to them about it?” Scratch asked, though she wasn’t sure if that was the right question. Discussing families was like speaking a different language.

“Eventually, yeah. It helped that Vel and Iris were better with kids.”

“Do your parents know you’re out here?”

Brella was quiet so long Scratch wasn’t sure whether she had heard the question. When she spoke, her voice was so low as to almost be a whisper.

“My parents disappeared a year ago.”

Scratch’s fingers felt numb as she tied off the last braid. “What happened?”

“They went to the Between and they never came back.”

Scratch cautiously lowered her hands onto Brella’s shoulders. Brella shivered.

“Can we sit here for a bit?” Brella asked. Her voice was low and smooth as a river rock. “Just a few moments.”

Scratch nodded, though Brella couldn’t see. It felt like enough.

The forest smelled rich around them, warming in the waxing morning light like baking bread, rising gold.

“Two days.” Brella peered into the light. “Nana said we were two days away from the gate, but we’re four at least. Unless—oh.” She slapped a hand to her head. “Of course she did this.”

“What?”

“We have to take Hatter’s Pass if we want to meet the lads in time.”

“And Hatter’s Pass is . . .” Scratch prompted, though she already suspected the answer.

Brella turned, grimacing apologetically. “More fair folk.”

Something fluttered in Scratch’s stomach, a lightning bug composed of fear, irritation, and curiosity in equal measure.

“Anyone dangerous?”

Brella shook her head. “Just irritating. He doles out favors and then expects something big in return. It’s easy enough to say no.”

Scratch somewhat doubted that she and Brella shared the same definition of “easy” but she decided not to make a fuss. James had been right. There were so many possibilities ahead, Scratch couldn’t possibly plan for all of them. Like it or not, she’d be surprised.